


Werewolf Gimmick

by muttshrooms



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Body Horror, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Set in Season 1, Werewolf!AU, being supernatural in space is complicated, inopportune supernatural moments, please ignore that they are on mars and thus don’t have a relationship with the moon, the juice, werewolf!juno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muttshrooms/pseuds/muttshrooms
Summary: “Juno!” Nureyev turned around to rush to his side and Juno growled, stopping him in his tracks.“I mean it Nureyev! I’m fine! Get away from me. Get-“ another groan, doubled over, his face elongating, skin splitting to make way for thick, heavy fur. Nails extended to wickedly sharp claws, teeth cutting into his gums as they grew quickly, too fast to keep up with the shape of his jaw. Across the room, his newly heightened senses could hear Nureyev shuffling. Juno could only pray that it would be enough.Don’t hurt him.Please don’t hurt him.And then the beast overwhelmed him.You can’t see the full moon when you’re trapped in a Martian tomb, but that doesn’t mean you get to hide from it.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	Werewolf Gimmick

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all ever take your dog on a run and start thinking about werewolves? This was written in a single sitting because once I started thinking about it I couldn’t stop. I did get a little detailed about the transformation, so if body horror squicks you out this might not be the one for you. 
> 
> Title is a reference to Werewolf Gimmick by the Mountain Goats !

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev were deep in the martian tomb that was sure to be _their_ tomb, any day now. The thief had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, and Juno had resigned himself to watching him with lidded eyes, head pounding too hard to catch any sleep of his own. As the minutes turned to hours, he sat there, acutely aware of everything around him. Every drip of stagnant water, every footstep of the guards walking their patrols, every soft breath of Nureyev’s chest rang clear through his pained head. 

And then, like the eye of a hurricane, the pain began to fade. Juno could have wept at the momentary relief, if the feeling that replaced it hadn’t been so much worse. Like fire in his veins, a growing, itching sensation that exceeded the bounds of his body. A familiar pain, the kind that haunts you, the kind that stays with you. Stalking behind your body with the tenacity of a shadow, or the inevitability of death. The kind of pain that had haunted him for years. 

_No_. 

_No, not now._

He hated to wake Nureyev. Really, he did. The man had been skinny when he met him, in a supermodel sort of way. Now he was skinny in the scary kind of way, face hanging gaunt over bones too visible to be healthy. Apparently Miasma’s diet plan for her kidnappees had only accounted for one. If there was one thing he needed, it was rest. But they didn’t have that luxury at the moment. 

“Nureyev. Nureyev, wake up.” 

The thief blinked wearily, hand reaching around on the stone floor for his glasses. “Mm? Juno? What’s wrong?” 

“Nureyev, how long have we been here?” Beautiful, sharp, black eyes raked over his form, concern setting worry lines into Peter Nureyev’s perfectly symmetrical face. How he managed to look so good after malnutrition and days of torture, the detective would never know. And if Juno was right about what was happening, he was about to become a beautiful corpse in the long line of bodies that trailed behind the disaster that was Juno Steel. “Nureyev! How many days?” 

“Five, I believe? Juno, what’s going on?” 

But Juno was too busy calculating to answer his question. If he had met up with Nureyev on the 18th, five days would make it…

Just in time for the full moon. 

“Fuck,” he hissed out, leaping up to pace, eyes wide as he sureyeved the room around them. “Not _now_.”

Nureyev slid to his feet with all the grace of a dancer, and crossed the room with two steps of his long legs. He placed a hand on Juno’s shoulder, but recoiled quickly at the detective’s flinch. “Juno, I need you to tell me what’s going on if I’m going to help you with it.” 

“You can’t, Nureyev,” his voice had taken on a hysterical edge to it as he realized just how bare the room around them was. Nowhere for Nureyev to hide, not enough space for him to run. “Listen, disappearing is your thing, right? You have to get out of here, ok?”

“ _What_?” Juno flinched at his tone, confused and appalled, but didn’t turn to face him. Couldn’t turn to face him. Couldn’t bear to see the confusion and worry that was surely there. “Juno, please, stop it. I’m not leaving you here.” 

The hysteria boiled to a point, then, manifesting itself as a horrible laugh. “If you don’t, I’m going to be the only one leaving here in the morning. Listen to me. I need you to get _out_ of here, ok? Away from me.” 

“You’re not making any sense!” 

“As if that’s out of the ordinary. Just go, Nureyev. Save yourself, ok?” 

Juno felt a warm hand touch his face, then, though this time when he flinched it didn’t retreat. Gently, Peter turned his face toward him. “Juno. I’m not leaving you.” He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. Nureyev’s expression was resolute. Juno could scream, curse, throw things, but he wasn’t going to leave. He could have kissed him or killed him in that moment. The night was still early, though. 

He took a deep breath. “Alright, you’re going to have to listen to me if we want to have any hope of making it out of this.” 

Nureyev didn’t look convinced by this, but his eyes narrowed and he nodded, slowly. “Alright. Tell me what you need.” 

“First things first. Get away from me. Stay away. I need you to hide, ok? I need-“ he groaned, doubling over. The sensation was quickly turning from unpleasant to agonizing, but he needed Nureyev to understand how deadly serious he was. “I need you to disappear, ok? No matter what happens. Promise me you’ll stay away from me.” 

“Juno, I…” a well aimed glare cut him off. “Alright. I’ll...figure something out.”

“Go.” He let himself fall to his knees, groaning in agony as the bones in his body began to rearrange themselves, muscles bending in ways they were never intended to. 

“Juno!” Nureyev turned around to rush to his side and Juno _growled_ , stopping him in his tracks. 

“I _mean_ it Nureyev! I’m fine! Get away from me. Get-“ another groan, doubled over, his face elongating, skin splitting to make way for thick, heavy fur. Nails extended to wickedly sharp claws, teeth cutting into his gums as they grew quickly, too fast to keep up with the shape of his jaw. Across the room, his newly heightened senses could hear Nureyev shuffling. Juno could only pray that it would be enough. 

Don’t hurt him. 

Please don’t hurt him. 

And then the beast overwhelmed him. 

~

It was currently taking all of Peter Nureyev’s strength not to leap out of the shoddy blanket he was hiding under, like a child, and rush to Juno Steel’s side. The noises he was making were worse than the ones he had made earlier, when he was being physically _tortured._ They were absolutely gut wrenching to hear, and the master thief knew that they would be added to the repertoire of nightmares that plagued him. That is, if he survived the night to sleep again. 

He hadn’t a clue what was happening to Juno, and the uncertainty was _killing_ him. For all the words that came out of the detective’s mouth, it really was truly rare for him to actually _say_ anything. Tonight had been particularly, and frustratingly vague. And yet, the fear he had heard had given him reason to pause. He had seen Juno in a lot of different states, at his best, at his worst. But in his experience fear was an entirely new emotion from Juno Steel. And if Juno was scared, well, Peter was terrified. 

So he hid. Through the moans and the screams, through the strange, animal-like grunts. Through the cracks and the pops, sickening sounds of rendering flesh. And then, worst of all, he hid through the silence that overtook the tomb. Peaceful, and still, like a lake hiding a monster. Like the calm before a storm. 

A strange noise broke the silence, a small, snuffling thing. And then the padding of footsteps, yet, muffled, somehow? Quite unlike anything Peter had ever heard. The sounds continued, edging closer to him, and he felt a sense of overwhelming dread. Closer. Closer. His muscles tensed. Should he throw off the blanket? Surprise whatever this was before it could get him? What if it were Juno? He couldn’t...he _wouldn’t_ hurt Juno. Not to mention, the lady certainly would have the advantage in any physical fight between them. 

The sniffing grew closer, close enough that he could feel the heat of _something’s_ breath on his face, hot and moist through the threadbare blanket. He froze. He barely dared to breathe. Then, in a flash of teeth, the blanket was gone and Nureyev found himself face to face with his assailant. 

The creature before him was huge. It was four legged and clearly built for power, tall, with rippling muscles designed for running and chasing. Beautiful, thick black fur covered the entirety of its form, and it stared at him intently with brown, intelligent eyes. 

Familiar eyes. 

Juno’s eyes. 

“Juno?” his voice was quiet, barely daring to speak at all. The beast tilted his head, mouth opening to reveal sharp, deadly teeth. Thrown out of his stupor, he scrambled backwards, grasping for anything that might help him. The beast pursued, maw gaping, pink tongue lolling out, stretching out to taste him. Nureyev squeezed his eyes tight and braced for the inevitable to come. 

Another swipe of the beast’s tongue. Then another. Then another. Confusion made him bold, eyes opening to try to figure out what he could possibly be doing. A spark filled the beast’s deep brown eyes, and his form wiggled, body language loose and languid. He didn’t seem ready to attack. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nureyev was by no account an expert on animals, but people were close enough in their own right. And the creature before him didn’t seem angry or hungry or predatory. He seemed...playful? Hesitantly, Nureyev stuck out a hand. 

The beast, immediately interested, surged forward, and Nureyev flinched minutely. He relaxed however as those jaws closed, the creature sniffing with great interest. Nureyev took a deep breath, unfurling his body and reaching forward, pressing his hand into soft, warm fur. The beast’s eyes fluttered, leaning his head forward into his hand, like he had been waiting for this all along. “Juno,” he murmured softly, sure of it now. 

Juno leaned forward until his furry cheek was brushing Nureyev’s shoulder, rubbing into the crook of his neck, and he couldn’t help but laugh as he buried his hands into the fur on his shoulders. “This is what you were afraid of? Why, you’re just a big puppy, aren’t you?” His voice devolved into gentle cooing as he scratched Juno’s shoulders, neck, behind the ears, anything that made his fluffy tail (his _tail!)_ wag behind him. 

Juno responded in turn, slathering every inch of Nureyev’s face he could find with slimy kisses, making him laugh and push him back. “Alright, enough, enough. You’ll take what’s left of my makeup off at this rate.” He looked him up and down. “How do you feel about cuddling?” Normal Juno would have rolled his eyes and grumbled at that, making it known how ridiculous it was to be _cuddling_ in a Martian _death chamber_ , as he wrapped his arms around him all the same. This Juno was much more amenable, to Nureyev’s delight. He immediately curled around him, forming what was certainly the most comfortable accommodations he had had in days. 

Now that the adrenaline was fading from his limbs, the exhaustion began to set in. He yawned, softly, stroking Juno’s fur beneath him. “I apologize, detective, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be awake.” 

Juno grunted beneath him, a deep sigh rumbling in his chest. Nureyev could feel the rise and fall of his chest, soothing like an ocean tide. 

  
  


He awoke, too soon, to hands on his face. 

“Nureyev? Nureyev.” Strong, calloused hands, thick and steady, roaming over his body, checking for wounds. He sat up, yawning and stretching. “Detective, we must stop meeting like this.” 

“How did you...I mean. Did I...did I hurt you?” there was genuine fear in his eyes, and something soft melted inside of the thief. 

“Juno, I don’t think you could ever hurt me.” He could have sworn he saw the detective’s lip quiver before he grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close. He hesitated for a moment, revealing in the detective’s warm body pressed against his own. “So...about last night.” Juno groaned, and Peter chuckled softly. 

“Do we have to talk about it?” 

“You turned into a…dog? Creature? Yes, Juno, we have to talk about it.” 

His petulant detective sighed, pulling back to look at Nureyev’s face, something soft in his expression, searching for some answer in Peter’s. “Wolf.” 

“Pardon?”

“I turned into a wolf. Because I’m a, uh, a werewolf.” His face was tight as though he had tasted something sour, and he was looking at Nureyev as though he was afraid he might laugh. 

Nureyev was careful to keep his tone even. “I thought they were restricted to Earthen legends. I’m sure there must be quite a story attached to how you ended up with such an affliction.” 

Juno snorted, a smile flickering on his face like the embers of a dying campfire. “Not as much as you’d think. I experimented in my twenties. A  _ lot. _ And one day, I wake up with a hangover to kill and a bite on my shoulder. Next thing you know, I have dogcatchers busting down my door for housing dangerous exotic animals.” 

“You must be used to this by now. Why were you so worried you would hurt me?” It was the wrong thing to say. Juno’s expression darkened, and he could feel the tenuous honesty between them slam shut like a door to the face. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

As Nureyev opened his mouth to interrogate further, or comfort, he wasn’t quite sure which, blinding light filled the small room. One of Miasma’s silent assistants made their way through the doorway and gestured a blaster in the direction of the door. 

“To be continued, my dear detective.” He held out his arm to help him up, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as they left the room that served as their prison. They had made it through the night. Now they had to face the morning, together. 


End file.
